


I Need You To Be All I Believe In // Dean Winchester

by lilyanderson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23027809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyanderson/pseuds/lilyanderson
Summary: Eleanor (ofc) is kidnapped and tortured by a demon for information about Jack. After he saves her, Dean struggles with the thought that she nearly died, which leads to admissions of feelings that they’ve both kept hidden until now.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	I Need You To Be All I Believe In // Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic i've ever published on here, pls enjoy n be nice !

“I’m just not getting through to you, am I? I think we might have to turn this up a notch.”

The demon nudged Eleanor’s side hard with his booted foot, his lips curling into a satisfied grin as his nudge landed directly on the broken ribs there. Eleanor was too exhausted to cry out or move away, but the quiet, dejected whimper that escaped her lips was indication enough that he’d hurt her.

Despite her entire body screaming in protest, Eleanor lifted her head just slightly to meet her captor’s black eyes. Her left eye was swollen and purple, obscuring her vision, but she could see well enough to watch as the demon walked over to the table behind him and pick up the knife he’d discarded about an hour or so ago. He wiped her congealed blood from the blade on his arm, before turning back to her again, the same sadistic smirk on his face that he’d had since she’d woken up in the cell.

It had only been two days since he’d got the jump on her, but in Eleanor’s mind it could have been weeks. The torture was becoming unbearable – she considered herself a strong person, she’d experienced and seen a lot in her line of work that had hardened her to things that a normal person would crumble in the face of, but she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take. A swollen eye and a couple of broken ribs was only the beginning.

Her entire body was littered with bruises, all varying shades and sizes. From her wrist to elbow on both arms it looked as though there was no more skin – just raw and bloody flesh, in different shades of red and pink. Bright purple welts decorated her neck like an unfortunate necklace – those were new, only that morning had the demon wrongly thought asphyxiation might be the answer to getting her to talk. A deep wound ran across her abdomen, still weeping crimson coloured blood. Every inch of her hurt and ached.

There was no more fight left in her – staying awake for longer than twenty minutes was a challenge, let alone trying to figure out how to escape. She knew somewhere out there her boys would be desperately trying to find her, but at the same time she knew the demon was growing tired of her refusal to talk, and she couldn’t be sure how much longer he’d keep her alive.

She was beginning to acknowledge that she might never see her family again. And although she didn’t fear dying, she’d accepted that the life would kill her sooner rather than later, she was terrified of leaving her family behind. They weren’t exactly the move on and accept death, type of people. She could accept her own death, it was her family that wouldn’t be able to.

Losing the strength to keep her head lifted to watch the demon, Eleanor’s head flopped back down onto the floor, but he kneeled onto the floor and gripped her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look back at him.

His eyes flashed black, lifting the knife to her neck and pressing it down just hard enough to draw a droplet of blood, “Where is the boy?”

“Bite me.” Eleanor managed to choke out, her throat sore and scratchy from lack of hydration.

The demon’s hand left her face only to grab a fistful of her blood-matted hair, slamming her head into the floor before pulling her head back up so she met his eyes once more, “The Winchester boys are never going to find you, so you might as well tell me before you die.”

When Eleanor responded by pressing her lips together and turning her head, the demon repeated his actions a few more times until eventually the force and pain caused her to black out.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been passed out when she woke to a commotion. She barely had the energy to open her eyelids to sneak a peek at what was going on, but she could recognise the sound of a fight from a mile away.

“Sam, look out!”

Dean’s unmistakeable gruff voice gave Eleanor just enough momentum to open her eyes and lift her head, her entire body flooding with relief at the sight of him, Sam and Castiel struggling with the demon. The demon was charging at Sam, but Dean was quick to step in-front of him, plunging the demon blade into his chest.

The demon’s body hadn’t even hit the ground before Dean was rushing to kneel at Eleanor’s side. He tried to take her into his arms but recoiled as she cried out in pain from the smallest of touch.

“Cas, help her,” Dean said, his voice cracking as he pushed a piece of matted hair out of her face and looked at the injuries that littered her body in horror, “it’s okay, Nellie, we’re here, we’ve got you.”

“Dean,” she whimpered out, a single tear of relief escaping from the corner of her eye as she struggled to lift a hand to grip his.

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispered softly, stroking the back of her palm with his thumb as Castiel kneeled next to them, Eleanor blacking out again, “come on, man, help her.”

*

The journey back to the bunker was completely silent, after Dean demanded that Castiel and Sam left Eleanor alone to rest before bombarding her with questions about the events of the past couple of days. He himself had plenty of questions of his own, but one look at her exhausted figure sleeping against Castiel silenced him.

Dean’s knuckles for white as he gripped the steering wheel, unable to shake the image of finding Eleanor’s bloodied and beaten up body. He’d seen her hurt from hunts too many times to count, but never like that. Never had he seen her so beat up that he thought she was dead.

“Dean—”

“Don’t, Sam,” Dean said, stopping his brother from spewing out whatever ‘comforting’ brotherly speech he had planned.

The three men sat in silence for another few moments, the only sound the rumble of the impala’s engine and Eleanor’s quiet snores.

“How the hell could this happen,” Dean finally said, gripping the steering wheel even tighter, “how could we let this happen?”

“None of us could have known, Dean,” Sam said tentatively, not wanting to provoke his brother anymore, “she was out for groceries, how we were we meant to know she’d get ambushed?”

“I should have never let her go alone.”

“Let her?” Sam scoffed, “When have you ever let her do anything? You’re not her dad, she does what she wants, man.”

Dean simply grunted in response, knowing his brother was right – Eleanor had never been the one to be bossed around by anyone, especially not Dean. If he’d told her not to go or not to go alone, she probably would have gone alone anyway just to prove a point to him.

They settled back into silence for the rest of the journey.

Eleanor only stirred when Dean pulled into the bunkers garage, rubbing her eyes and moving away from Castiel, shooting him a sheepish smile.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Sam said as he opened the car door for her, holding his hand out to help her.

She frowned, swatting his hands away, “I’m tired, not incapacitated,” she said, getting out of the car on her own, “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

The three men watched helplessly as Eleanor quickly walked away, disappearing into the bunker without a second glance.

*

Eleanor closed her eyes as the hot, steamy water hit her body. Titling her face up to the stream, she relished in the warmth as the water washed away the dried sweat and blood. After a while of just standing underneath the water, she took her favourite vanilla scented shower gel and began to scrub her body.

When the water eventually ran cold and all the dried blood had been washed away, Eleanor left the shower and wrapped herself up in her pink fluffy towel. She revelled in the softness against her bare skin, a welcomed sensation and a stark contrast from a few hours earlier.

Walking back into her bedroom, running a comb through her clean hair, she jumped as she found Dean seated on the edge of her bed. He barely acknowledged that she’d entered the room, simply staring at the bedroom door.

“You scared me,” she said, pulling the towel tighter against her body self-consciously.

“We nearly lost you,” Dean said emotionlessly, still staring at the bedroom door but Eleanor could see the tears glistening at his eyes and the way he was tightly clenching his jaw – something she knew he did when we was really upset, “I nearly lost you.”

“Dean, hey look at me,” Eleanor said, taking a step forward but purposefully not too close as she was still very aware of her state of undress, “I’m safe now, everything is okay.”

He finally met her gaze; a flicker of an emotion Eleanor couldn’t recognise igniting in his forest coloured eyes.

“I’ve been going out of my damn mind these past two days, I thought I was never going to see you again,” he said, his words growing louder as he spoke but his voice cracking, “I thought you were dead.“

“Dean—”

“Hell, when we found you there was so much blood, all I could think was—”

“ _Dean_.”

The words died on his tongue as Eleanor carefully kneeled in-front of him, taking his face in her shaky hands. Her heart pounded against her chest at their closeness, but she forced herself to ignore it, focusing instead on making her best-friend feel better.

“I can’t even think about what I’d do if you were—”

“Shh, stop thinking like that,” she said, stroking her thumb across his cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped the corner of his eye, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears, “I’m here, I’m safe, you saved me.”

“I-I was so scared, Nell’, so fucking terrified that I was never gonna get you back,” Dean whispered, the out-of-character vulnerability he was showing springing tears to her eyes, “I don’t know what I would have done,”

“You were the only thing that got me through, De’,” Eleanor admitted, swiping away a couple of tears from her own cheeks, “I just knew you were out there somewhere doing whatever you could to find me, and I knew your stubborn ass wouldn’t leave me there without a fight.”

Dean closed his eyes, relishing in the feel of her hands on his skin, after days of thinking she was dead. Not even thinking about it, Eleanor leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. The two were both too caught up in the moment to acknowledge the unusual level of intimacy they were sharing – they had always been close, but there had always been this unspoken line that they’d toed for years that stopped them from going any further and confronting their feelings for each-other.

“I love you.”

Eleanor’s admission snapped them both out of the moment. She quickly stood and took a few steps back, fixing the towel tighter around her body again. Her heart was slamming so furiously against her chest she was beginning to think it might burst out at any moment.

They’d said those words to each-other on so many occasions, but they both knew this time it was different – it felt too intimate to be a platonic ‘I love you like a brother’. There was a gravity to her words that was different from all the times before.

Dean’s eyes were wide as rose from the bed, taking a tentative step towards her but stopped as she lifted a hand in protest.

“I’m tired, you should go.” Eleanor whispered her face still contorted in unmasked horror as she regarded the significance of what she’d just said. She was so far over the line that they’d carefully toed for years that it was just a blur in her peripheral.

“Nellie—”

“Dean, please, just go.”

Ignoring her words, Dean continued to take more tentative steps towards her. Seeing that she wasn’t protesting just yet, he took one last step that left little distance between them. He was so close that she could feel his minty breath against the tips of her cheeks, and she had to force herself to meet his eyes instead of staring at his mouth.

“Dean.” she breathed out, as he mimicked her earlier actions and cupped her face in his hands.

“I love you, Nellie,” he said, his voice breathy and quiet, “and I’m sorry it took you nearly dying for me to finally grow the balls to tell you, even if you did beat me to it.”

“Dean—”

Eleanor let out an unintentional gasp as his lips met hers, but quickly melting into his kiss.

As though with a mind of their own, her arms circled around his waist, one hand trailing up and down his spine, the other pulling him closer until the distance between them was non-existent. Despite hours spent thinking about what it would be like to do this with him, Eleanor was completely unprepared for how soft and comforting his kiss would be. It was like coming home – like he was her home.

The kiss obliterated any other thought she might have had in that moment – all she could think about was committing the feel of his tongue trailing against the seam of her lips and his hand tangled in her wet hair to memory. The events of the last few days evaporated, and the feel of his body pressed tightly to her own consumed her entirely.

They both pulled away to gasp for air, sickly-sweet grins on both their faces.

“You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Dean breathed out, a boyish smirk appearing on his mouth as he toyed with the end of Eleanor’s towel that was now only being kept up by Dean’s body against hers.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Eleanor said, stepping away from him to let the towel drop to the floor, “but maybe we should do it again just to make sure,”

Dean groaned at the sight of her, “God, I love you,”


End file.
